


Crest

by blackkat



Series: 64 Damn Prompts [18]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, Romance, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes…" Ichigo closed his eyes and sighed softly, knowing what he had to say, for both of their sakes. Then he looked back up, smile still in place—even though holding it there was almost painful. "Sometimes, it just doesn't work out."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crest

It was snowing. The cold December wind picked up the flakes and sent them spinning through the air, feather-light and freezing. Ichigo tucked his hands deeper into his pockets and managed a small smile at the man facing him.

"Sometimes…." He closed his eyes and sighed softly, knowing what he had to say, for both of their sakes. Then he looked back up, smile still in place—even though holding it there was almost painful. "Sometimes, it just doesn't work out."

Gin watched him with unusually solemn eyes, for once not sporting his sharp grin. Two packed bags sat at his feet, and his ride waited behind them, engine running. After a minute, he nodded, echoing Ichigo's sigh. "Yeah," he agreed, running a hand through his silver hair and dislodging some of the snow that had settled there. He seemed to grasp for words for several moments before finally settling on, "Still friends?"

Ichigo's smile turned bittersweet but genuine instead of forced, and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the taller man, pressing his face to Gin's shoulder. His grip tightened, and he huffed out a soft chuckle as Gin returned the embrace almost desperately. "Of course," he murmured, stepping back to meet Gin's eyes. "Always friends. Take care of yourself, right?"

With a flash of his signature grin, Gin shouldered his backpack and picked up his suitcase. He winked. "Mah, I can't promise anythin' without you there to watch me, Ichi, but I'll do my best." The moment the words registered, he hesitated, nearly wincing, and Ichigo's smile faltered. The exchange was too intimate for what they were now, a lover's gentle teasing instead of banter between close friends.

Then Ichigo sighed and waved it off, stepping back and giving a nod to Szayel in the front seat of the car. He turned his attention back to Gin and smiled wearily. "Call me next time you're back in the country, okay? My door's always open if you need somewhere to crash." With one last, searching glance, as though memorizing the scene, he turned away, casting a quick wave over his shoulder as he headed back into the house.

The door shut softly behind him, muffled by the thickly falling snow.

Sighing, Gin opened the back door of the car and tossed his bags in, then moved around to passenger side and slid in, dropping his head back against the headrest with a soft thump. There was no sound except for the hiss of tires in snow and the purr of the engine as Szayel pulled out into the street, and then the pink-haired man glanced at him and said quietly, "Are you all right?"

Gin closed his eyes, suddenly too tired to keep them open. He reminded himself that they had known this was coming, had known it for a long time now. This assignment had come at the perfect time, really. It was a good excuse to do what they had been putting off for to long.

It was fine.

This was better.

Really.

He opened his eyes and cast a wry smile at his friend. "I'll get over it."

Szayel shook his head, but didn't take his eyes off the road. After a pause, he commented, "If you're not over it right now, maybe it's best if you don't split like this."

Gin closed his eyes again, a soft sigh fluttering past his lips. With a crooked grin, he echoed the words that so perfectly summed up their entire fucked-up situation.

"Sometimes, it just doesn't work out."

Szayel had nothing to say to that, and turned his attention back to the road. Gin let the wet _shush_ of the wheels through the slush on the road lull him into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

Renji watched with concern as his friend corrected a student's stance and adjusted the way she was blocking. After a moment, Ichigo stepped back, nodding for the girl to continue, and she flashed him a grateful smile before going back to her practice. Ichigo cast a glance over the rest of the group and then dropped back to stand with Renji by the doors.

"You really needed my help with this group?" he asked dryly, arching an eyebrow. "Renji, I think even you would be fine without my help for this one."

Huffing, Renji turned on his childhood friend and narrowed his eyes. "Look, Tatsuki might have fed you that bull line to get you out here, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, bastard! You're killing yourself moping! Ishida said you haven't left your house in a week!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stalked into the changing room. Renji growled softly in disgust and tossed a quick glance at his watching girlfriend. Tatsuki nodded her acknowledgement and returned to her students, and Renji went after their friend. With Ichigo, continuous assaults were always the best tactic, so he didn't even give the other man a chance to open his mouth before he started again.

"Look, Ichigo, why don't you just call Gin up and apologize? Whatever you're fighting about, isn't getting back together more important? You guys love each other way more than most couples that have lasted this long. When he's gone, you're just about suicidal."

Ichigo threw a towel at his head. "Shut up, Renji," he snapped. "I'm not suicidal, and Gin and I didn't fight. We broke up. It was mutual, and friendly, and we have no intention of getting back together. He has his life, and I have mine, and we're both better off just being friends. We do love each other, but…" He trailed off and shrugged. "It just…didn't happen. Didn't work out. It happens."

With a heavy exhalation, Renji slumped down on the bench next to him. "It was mutual?" he asked.

Ichigo nodded. "Completely."

"Not sudden?"

"It's been a long time coming."

"But _why_?"

Renji sounded like he was at a complete loss. Ichigo supposed it was understandable. After all, he and Gin hadn't had any outward signs of problems—they didn't fight, didn't give each other the silent treatment, went out with friends, and were, by all appearances, completely happy with each other. But the difficulty was something completely different. He shook his head.

"We just…weren't working. Gin's got his photography to focus on, and I've got the City Housing project coming up, and our lives are just getting too different. We're still friends, and we always will be, but we need to focus on _us_ right now. Gin is getting a ton of assignments in conflict areas, and being an architect requires a lot of on-site time. We've been getting more and more distant for months now, and neither of us wanted to go through a big, messy breakup after doing this for a year. It's better to separate now, without ruining what we used to have together."

They sat in silence together until the sounds in the other room alerted them to the end of the practice. Ichigo got up, pulling his coat on, and smiled at Renji. "I know you're worried, Ren, you and Tatsuki both, but I'm fine. Really. You don't need to go to these lengths just to drag me out of the house. I was just working on finishing up some plans." He waved and headed out the door, nodding to some of the students as they passed. They bowed back, and Ichigo headed out into the snowy night, drawing his scarf up higher under his chin.

It was all true, Ichigo reflected absently, slogging through the slush towards his house four blocks down. Everything he had said to Renji was absolutely factual, and yet…

And yet, none of it was the exact reason they had separated, except for one thing.

It just hadn't worked out.

There was nothing wrong, really. There was nothing that either of them had done. No unfaithfulness. No unbearable habits. No fights. Nothing. Just two people who couldn't seem to connect they way they had before.

The house was cold when he finally reached it, dark and echoing in its emptiness. Ichigo shook off the depression that threatened to rise up and overwhelm, removing his winter clothes and boots and heading for the kitchen. Automatically, he turned on lights as he went, even though he was the only on there. They comforted him, almost like he was just waiting for Gin to get back from a late night at the studio, and not…

Not alone.

Not expecting Gin to come back.

Not _allowed_ to expect Gin to some back.

Not anymore.

Ichigo paused in front of the stove, casting a detached look at the casserole Yuzu had left that morning. He knew, clinically, that he should eat, but he couldn't summon up the will to actually do so. It was a bad habit, not eating whenever he was unhappy—but he wasn't unhappy, he corrected himself sharply, just _busy_. And right now, he was just too tired to eat.

Leaving the kitchen, Ichigo made a beeline for the bedroom and collapsed onto the mattress, breathing in the faint scent of snow and thyme that was all that remained of his lover. His eyes closed, Ichigo wrapped himself in that fading trace of the past and fell asleep where he was, still clothed, with the lights still burning brightly in the rest of the house.

When he dreamed, he dreamed of Gin.

* * *

Four months of jungles, photographing child soldiers and dodging fucking murderous _beasts_ on both sides of the civil war.

Three months of deserts, capturing the haunted looks of refugees who wanted nothing more than a single hour of safety.

Another four months of blast-riddled cities, getting pictures of rebel soldiers with rusty machetes and desperate eyes.

Two months of dead fields, looking through his viewfinder and seeing starving families scrounging in the dirt for whatever meager handfuls of barely-edible plant matter and instects they could find.

Thirteen months altogether, of thinking about what he had left behind, and why he had done it.

Now, halfway through his fourteenth month, Gin couldn't quite remember his reasons. When he thought about Ichigo, all he could call to mind was a brief, sweet smile, as rare as a precious gem. Soft laughter, naturally husky and able to brighten a round by sound alone. Bright hair, like brilliant fire, and honey-amber eyes that were equally radiant. Smooth, tanned skin. Long, slender, ink-stained fingers from where he got too involved with his drafting.

And love, so much love, whenever their eyes met.

Gin stared out the window of the plane as the landmass of Japan came into view beneath them. His thoughts were whirling, but seemed to be stuck on a looped tape.

 _Ichigo._

 _I want to go to him._

 _But we separated._

 _We're just friends now._

 _I have no right to him._

 _Can I…get him back?_

 _What if he's found someone else?_

 _I don't know if I could stand that._

 _But, even if he has, I want to be with him._

 _Ichigo._

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the announcement that they would be landing soon. With a sigh, he snapped his seatbelt on and leaned back in his chair, fingering his jacket pocket and wondering what he would find when he landed.

* * *

Ichigo narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, studying the latest design for the Community Center his firm would be responsible for. It was one of the focal points of the project, and he had been given free rein to plan whatever he wanted—within limits, of course, but it was still a huge step. He was hardly the most senior architect in the firm, and this would be a huge boost for his career.

As he had been doing for the past year, he pushed down that little niggling voice that commented on how absolutely empty his life felt, even with a project like this to distract him.

Before he could get too deeply engrossed, though, the doorbell rang. Ichigo straightened up with a frown, wondering who it could possible be. Renji and Tatsuki were out of town. Rukia and Orihime were on a romantic trip to Italy. Chad would have knocked. His father would have kicked down the door. And Ishida was a creeper who always seemed to have a copy of his key.

Carefully, Ichigo shook off that last, disturbing thought and headed for the door. Without bother to look through the peephole, he threw back the deadbolt and swung it open, only to have the knob slip from suddenly numb fingers and thump against the wall as he stared at the man standing there.

"Gin," he whispered.

Gin gave him that crooked grin that made his heart hurt just a little bit more, and offered a brief wave. "Hey, Ichi. That offer of an open door still good?"

Inwardly, Ichigo shook himself hard, and then stepped back. "Sure. You're always welcome. I just…didn't know you were back. Your sister said you were on assignment in Africa still, and that you wouldn't be home for another few months."

"Rangiku's doin' well, then?" Gin smiled fondly at the mention of his older sister, dropping his bag and starting to struggle out of his heavy coat. "I haven't been able to call her for the last few weeks—phone's out of range or somethin'."

"They're filming in the mountains," Ichigo explained, helping when one of the sleeves got stuck—and it was such a familiar thing to do that they both had to pause for a second to fight back the emotions it brought bubbling to the surface. After a moment, Ichigo cleared his throat and took the jacket, hanging it up on the empty hook by the door—and that was familiar, too, though they ignored it. "She called from the nearest town a few days ago, said not to worry if we couldn't reach her. They don't get cell reception wherever they are."

But Gin wasn't listening anymore. When Ichigo turned around, Gin was right behind him, staring at him with blue eyes full of emotion. The look on his face made the breath catch in Ichigo's throat, and he couldn't move as Gin took a half-step forward, hands rising to grip his elbows and hold him in place.

"I forgot," Gin said, his voice unusually husky. "I can't remember why we broke up."

Ichigo bit his lip, trying to tell himself that the feel of Gin's hands on him after so long was _not_ the best thing he had ever felt, that there was no reason for his heart to be pounding like it was. Fighting down the reaction as best he could, he said weakly, "It just…didn't work out."

Gin shook his head, eyes never leaving Ichigo's face, and he took another step forward, his hands sliding from the redhead's arms to his waist, and curling around to bring him in close. "Not good enough," he whispered in his ear, and Ichigo shivered sharply. "I've spent the last thirteen months seein' everythin' bad that's been happening in the world, and now I want to save somethin' that was _good_. _We_ were good, Ichi. Can't we be good again?"

Ichigo closed his eyes and shook his head—not in denial, but in wonder. He leaned forward to rest his head on Gin's shoulder, a soft laugh shaking his body. "I've been _lonely_ , Gin. All the people in Karakura, all the people in Japan, all the people in the _world,_ and you were the only one I ever wanted to see. We can't be friends. I don't _want_ to be friends. I just want…"

" _You_ ,"hung unspoken between them, and Gin smiled, lifting Ichigo's head and brushing the faintest ghost of a kiss over his lips. He touched the black-framed glasses and the smile widened.

"So cute, Ichi," he murmured, even though _cute_ was hardly the word to describe him. Ichigo wasn't beautiful. He wasn't a woman. There was nothing soft and delicate about him. He was lean and muscular, handsome and utterly breathtaking. But now, dressed in a rumpled green dress shirt that was buttoned incorrectly, with a smudge of ink at the corner of his mouth where he had obviously been chewing on the wrong end of a pen, wearing his glasses, his hair sticking up in every direction from him running his hands through it—Gin thought he had never seen a more adorable sight. With a wide smile, he leaned forward and kissed Ichigo gently, thoroughly, as though attempting to make up for all the kisses they had missed with a single one.

By the time they separated, they were both breathless. Ichigo drew back to drop his head back to Gin's shoulder, huffing out a soft laugh.

"Missed you, Gin," he whispered.

Gin took his left hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing the long, slender, calloused fingers, and when he drew his lips away, he revealed the thick silver band he had placed firmly on Ichigo's ring finger.

Looking up into the redhead's startled tawny eyes, he grinned somewhat nervously and took a step back. One hand rose to rub the back of his head, a nervous habit he had picked up from Ichigo.

"Remember when we were lookin' up family crests?" he asked softly. "Back in high school? I got Yama-jii-sensei to send me the ones we found. Yours is on mine." He held up his hand to show a matching ring, with the symbol of the Kurosaki family carefully etched into the metal, and then tapped the ring Ichigo wore, with the Ichimaru. "And mine is on yours. Do you…mind?"

The way Ichigo answered him left little doubt that no, he did not mind at all.

* * *

"So?" Tatsuki asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at them, Renji gaping at her side. "What happened?"

Ichigo and Gin traded glances, amused at the shocked gazes of all their friends and family. Then, with a small, secret smile, Ichigo just shrugged. "Well, sometimes, it just…"

Gin caught his hand and twined their finger together, and finished with a crooked grin, "Sometimes, it just works out."

The crests on their matching rings shimmered in the light as, like two puzzle pieces, they meshed perfectly, coming together with utter ease.

Their reunion, Ichigo thought with a rush of easy contentment, had been much the same.


End file.
